Disaster Twins Shenanigans
by Lt. Commander Hanna Tucker
Summary: A series of fluffy oneshots, loosely connected and all shipping a certain armoury officer and his engineer. - (Malcolm Reed/Charles "Trip" Tucker III)
1. Let It Be Said

Let It Be Said

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Plot Summary: Malcolm finally shows Trip how he feels. It goes better than he thought it would.

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"Well, the Vulcan database said no one leaves this club unhappy," Trip told Malcolm, leaning back his chair casually. Malcolm turned his head to look at the Southerner, a small trace of a frown flickering across his face. No one leaves this club unhappy? Malcolm's mind whirred as he thought this over. He was enjoying himself, in spite of the false pretense that he wanted to get hammered and hook up with a girl for a night or two. The Brit licked his lips thoughtfully. He could do it right now, if he wanted. Blame it on the alcohol. But was it really worth risking his friendship with Trip? More likely than not they would end up leaving the club very, _very _unhappy if Malcolm gave into his temptations.

"Mal, ya okay?" Trip placed a hand on his troubled friend's shoulder. "Ya hardly said a word in the past hour or two."

"Trip," Malcolm started, his voice steady yet quiet, "if you were in love with someone and wanted to show it, what would you do?"

Trip gave him an odd look. "What're ya talkin' 'bout?"

"If you were in love with someone and you wanted to show to them that you did, what would you do?"

Trip huffed as he thought. "Well, that depends on the person. Everybody's different, ya know? No reaction's gonna be the same with every person. Hell, I should know! Natalie almost bashed my teeth in the first time I tried to kiss her. Second time thankfully didn't involve a trip to the hospital for stitches." Malcolm nodded silently, looking away. Trip frowned. "Why're ya askin' me this anyway? Gotcher eye on someone?" Then the engineer grinned mischievously at his friend. "Is it T'Pol and her 'nice bum?'"

Malcolm looked back at Trip. The light hit the Southerner's face perfectly, lighting up his already bright blue eyes. His golden hair shined softly, in literal sync with the rest of his beautifully toned body. Malcolm reached out and brushed the back of his hand against the side of Trip's smooth cheek, letting said hand trail down to his chin.

"Mal?"

Without a single word of reply, Malcolm leaned in and pressed his lips lightly against Trip's. The engineer's soft lips felt warm and slightly rough against Malcolm's. The armoury officer tensed a bit as he waited for the inevitable. It didn't come. If anything, it felt like Trip was kissing him back. This was confirmed when the blonde opened his mouth slightly to push his tongue between Malcolm's lips. The Brit let him in with a hum of pleasure, snaking an arm around the back of engineer's shoulders in order to deepen the kiss even further.

It ended all too soon. Trip pulled his lips away and pressed his forehead gently against Malcolm's. "Trip." It almost came out in a whisper. Malcolm's fingers had tangled with the engineer's shirt at some point in the kiss. He moved one hand up to brush Trip's cheekbone. "I... w... w-why did you do that?"

Trip's slid his arms around Malcolm's waist. "Cuz I like ya. Mal, do ya even wanna know how long I've been hopin' for this? I've wanted to kiss ya since the Cap'n, Hoshi, and I surprised ya for your birthday. I wanted to do it on the shuttlepod, when we both thought we were gonna die as beard-sicles. And I really, _really_ wanted to do it tonight."

"But...?"

"Didn't wanna lose ya," Trip murmured, nuzzling the smaller man's nose. "You're my friend. I didn't wanna risk losin' ya... And I spent so long tryin' to getcha outta your shell... I didn't want... I didn't want ya to get scared and start hidin' the real you again. I'm sorry I didn't realise how ya felt sooner."

Malcolm hummed softly. "Don't beat yourself up, Trip. We know now. That's what matters. And you know what?"

"What?"

Malcolm smirked as he pulled Trip out of his chair. "I intend to take _full _advantage of that... if you're willing." He captured Trip's lips with his own once more, not paying any mind to the patrons who were naturally watching with intense curiosity. When Malcolm pulled away, he asked, "Shall we dance, my love?" A slow, romantic song happened to be playing at the moment. Trip grinned in amusement. The Risans had pretty good tastes in music. And what better way to appreciate said music than to dance the night away with the man he fell in love with and vice versa?

"Hell yeah."

Let it be said no one ever leaves that club unhappy.

~Fin~


	2. Interruptions

Interruptions

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Plot Summary: Trip and Malcolm are in the middle of playing out a sexual fantasy when, naturally, they get interrupted.

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_**A/N: Am I psychologically insane?... hmm, probably. Ain't no way I'm gonna stop writing for these two lovebirds, though!**_

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Malcolm bent forward and kissed Trip lightly on the nose. His fingers trailed down the back of the Southerner's costume. "Well, Skywalker," Malcolm began seductively, "this is an... interesting turn of events."

Trip reached up and grabbed Malcolm by his jacket, then pulled him down on top of him. There was quite a bit of shuffling around, due to the rather small size of the bunk. "I'd have to 'gree, Han," Trip replied, flipping the both of them over so he was on top of Malcolm. "Better not let the Princess see us like this or she'll be downright furious."

Malcolm smirked. "If it's all the same to you, I don't give a damn if she does."

"Ya sure?" Trip lowered his head and playfully nipped at Malcolm's ear. The smaller man closed his eyes and shuddered in pleasure. "Cuz I don't know 'bout you, but I'd like to do this again with all my bones intact."

Malcolm opened his eyes and smiled up at the engineer. "Me too." He slowly wrapped his arms around the back of Trip's neck with a calculated precision. And then he pulled the Southerner down for a long, passionate kiss.

Trip moaned softly, parting his lips to let Malcolm in. The Brit gladly took the invitation and moved one hand up to the back of Trip's head so that the kiss could deepen. His fingers tangled in the engineer's golden blonde hair. Trip shifted slightly so he could get his hands between himself and Malcolm, searching for the armoury officer's belt buckle.

And then the comm beeped.

"Captain Archer to Commander Tucker."

Trip broke the kiss and looked up. "Son of a-!"

"Oops, that must be the Princess," Malcolm teased, laughing. Trip shot the Brit an annoyed look that only made him laugh harder. "You'd better answer it before the Captain gets suspicious."

"He just had to interrupt us, didn't he?" Trip muttered. "And we were just gettin' to the good part!"

Malcolm rolled his eyes in amusement. "Trip, I'm not going anywhere and I'm sure it's nothing important. Just answer it already so we can get back to 'the good part.'"

Trip nodded and moved to answer the comm. "Trip here. What seems to be the problem, Cap'n?"

"The gravity plating on G-deck is acting up again," Jonathan replied. "You think maybe you can take a look at it? Lieutenant Hess is still busy repairing the aft plasma manifolds."

Trip looked at Malcolm, who was still sprawled out on the bunk. The Brit nodded to Trip silently. The engineer finally responded, "Alright, I'll go check it out and see what's wrong. Trip out." He lowered his hand from the comm and gave Malcolm a sad glance. "Sorry to cut it so short, Mal-"

"Trip, it's fine, really." Malcolm offered the engineer a small smile. "I'll be right here when you get back."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Then gimme a smooch for good luck."

Malcolm gladly complied, standing up from the bunk and pulling his lover into a kiss. When they finally pulled away about two minutes later, Malcolm whispered, "I hope you come back soon, love. I'm rather hoping to see that sexy bum of yours by the end of the day."

Trip couldn't hold back a snort of laughter. "Dontcha worry, Mal- you'll be seein' that 'sexy bum' of mine soon 'nuff."

"Good. I'm very much looking forward to it."

~Fin~


	3. A Little Mornin' Fun

A Little Mornin' Fun

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Plot Summary: Getting Malcolm out of bed is proving harder than Trip initially thought. Luckily the engineer has a trick or two up his sleeve.

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"Malcolm... ya gotta wake up or you'll be late for your shift." Trip nuzzled Malcolm's ear playfully as he spoke. The armoury officer's snoring paused for only a brief second, then continued on in a slow and steady rhythm. Trip huffed and nudged Malcolm's cheek with a finger. "Mal... if ya get up now, we'll have time to stop by the mess and grab breakfast. Maybe have even some _pineapple_ pancakes?" There was no response from the sleeping Brit. Trip kissed Malcolm's cheek, hoping that perhaps this would rouse him.

Malcolm didn't move.

Trip debated whether or not to whack him with a pillow. A childish grin spread across the engineer's face. He didn't even concern himself of whether or not Malcolm would strangle him later. The nimble engineer slid out of the covers in smooth, singular motion. He reached for his pillow, trying desperately not to break down in hysterical laughter at what he was about to do. Yep, Malcolm was definitely going to strangle him later.

It was going to be worth it, though.

Trip raised up the pillow dramatically and brought it down squarely on Malcolm's abdomen. The snoring ceased. For a terrifying second, Malcolm flipped over in bed and regarded Trip with a look that was anything _but_ flattering. "What the hell was that for?!" Trip couldn't restrain himself any longer. He practically _dropped_ to the floor and rolled around laughing, much to Malcolm's annoyance.

After several minutes, Trip finally got ahold of himself. "Ha... had to wake ya up somehow," the Southerner replied, wiping tears from his face.

"And you thought the best way of doing that," Malcolm said incredulously, "was to _whack_ me with a _pillow?"_

Trip's smiled disappeared from his face. "Mal... come on. Ya didn't even rouse at the idea of pineapple pancakes. 'Sides, I thought it would be funny... I'm sorry, okay?" The annoyed expression on the armoury officer's face was replaced by a look of... mischief? The next thing Trip knew was that a pillow was lightly whacking him in the face.

The whacking ceased for a moment and Trip saw a grin on Malcolm's face. "You're not the only one who can engage in this type of _tactical maneuvering_, love."

Trip returned the smile, standing up and raising his own pillow. Oh yes, this was going to be a very _productive_ morning indeed. Trip would no doubt be getting a lecture from Jonathan about "sleeping in all the time," but where Malcolm was concerned it was worth every second.

"En garde, Loo-ten-ient!"

~Fin~


	4. Ready

Ready

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Plot Summary: Movie night isn't without it's surprises, and Trip gets some of his own one fateful... well, movie night.

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Trip spotted Malcolm amongst the crowd and waved, grinning unabashedly as he retrieved a bowl of popcorn for the both of them to share. Malcolm smiled softly back at the Southerner and sidled up to him, letting his hand just barely brush Trip's hip. "Saved you a seat, love," Malcolm whispered to the engineer. While they had revealed their relationship to Captain Archer not too long ago, they weren't quite ready for the rest of the crew to know just yet. Of course, assuming the crew didn't already know.

"Thanks, Mal," Trip replied as he and his lover made their way to their seats. As they walked down the aisle, Trip found himself wishing he could have his arm wrapped around the smaller man's waist right about now. The engineer wanted be open about their relationship to the crew, but he respected Malcolm's need for privacy. They would reveal their relationship when Malcolm was ready.

The two men sat down and waited patiently as everyone else finally settled down so the movie could start. Well, Malcolm was patient. Trip fidgeted impatiently.

The lights dimmed and the projector in the back of the mess hummed to life, its singular beam of light shining on the white screen. Malcolm's fingers made their way to the popcorn bowl, but not before softly trailing across the back of Trip's hand first, making the Southerner's breath hitch quietly. The warm touch was gone as soon as it had come, much to Trip's disappointment. The engineer lost interest in the film less than halfway through- he had seen it one too many times no thanks to Lizzie's temporary yet still intense crush on Captain Proton. Trip scanned the mess silently to make sure everyone else was occupied with the movie.

When he was satisfied that no one was watching them, Trip moved his hand to rest on Malcolm's, lightly enough so that the armoury officer could pull away if he wanted to. Malcolm stiffened slightly under the touch and Trip started to pull his hand away, his face burning with a shame he hoped was hidden by the dimness of the room. But then fingers locked around the engineer's wrist like a vice. Trip turned his head to look at Malcolm, sky blue eyes meeting stormy grey.

Malcolm loosened his grip on Trip's wrist slightly but did not let go. Instead he pulled the Southerner's hand into his lap, their fingers intertwining. To say Trip was dumbfounded would be an understatement. Just what was Malcolm doing? It was another hour or so before the film ended and even when the lights brightened, Malcolm didn't let go of Trip's hand. And even when they stood to talk to Hoshi and Travis, he still didn't let go. Trip was both enthralled and worried by this. Mostly the latter.

As the two Starfleet officers made their way back to Malcolm's quarters, Trip attempted to question the armoury officer about what had happened. Malcolm shushed him and told him to wait until they were in private. So the second they were safely behind a closed door, Trip said pointedly, "I thought ya wanted to wait till you were ready."

"In case it wasn't obvious in the mess hall earlier," Malcolm returned, turning to face the younger man with a puzzled expression, "I _am_ ready. Trip, how long have we been dating?"

"Three months," Trip told him, not quite following.

"Exactly," Malcolm went on, "That's longer than any of the other relationships I've been in lasted. I'm ready to take the next step with you, love."

"Why?" Trip asked, his voice almost a murmur. "I haven't exactly had the best track record myself when it comes to relationships."

For answer, Malcolm stepped towards Trip and slid his arms slowly around the engineer's neck. Trip could feel the warmth of Malcolm's soft, gentle breath on his face. And then there was the sensation of lips on lips. Trip put his hands on the smaller man's back and deepened the kiss. It was a long time before the armoury officer in his arms breathlessly pulled away by a few centimetres.

"Because you're worth it," Malcolm whispered softly, before pulling Trip back down for another kiss.

~Fin~


	5. Another Day On the Starship Enterprise

Just Another Day On the Starship Enterprise

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Plot Summary: T'Pol just had to walk by the armoury at that moment. And of course, Captain Archer just had to show up right then too. Now the poor Vulcan has the very unpleasant honour of explaining to the Captain why he can't go in the armoury at the moment.

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_**A/N: So, due to this site's rule about not posting fics containing song lyrics not in the public domain, I won't be able to publish the oneshot "Are You Done" here (that fic takes place before this one, that's why I'm bringing this up). Now since these oneshots are loosely connected, you don't have to read "Are You Done," but if you want to, head over to AO3. My username there is**_ **Hanna_Tucker,_ and the story is in the series "Disaster Twins Shenanigans." And... that's all. _**

**_Constructive criticism appreciated! Flames are NOT._**

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T'Pol stopped in her tracks as she neared the armoury doors. An unpleasant odor wafted to her sensitive nose. Quirking an eyebrow up in puzzlement, she quickly (and much to her dismay) realised exactly _what_ that smell was. Stepping towards the wall, she pressed her ear to it and listened for confirmation. Yes, Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed were most certainly in there. Yes, they were most certainly engaged in sexual activity, if the smell and... _moaning_ was anything to go by.

T'Pol pulled away from wall as she heard Tucker murmur some sexual comment to Reed. She had heard and _smelled_ quite enough. And then she heard footsteps coming up behind her. "Sub-Commander?" T'Pol turned around and saw Archer standing behind her, his gaze curious. "Is there something wrong?"

T'Pol glanced at the data pad in Archer's hand, then back at him. "Are you delivering something to the armoury?"

"Oh, yes," Archer replied, glancing down at the pad in his hands. "One of Lieutenant Reed's friends transmitted these to me. They're new design schematics for the phase cannons. If Malcolm could implement these designs to ours, it should boost their power efficiency by at least sixty percent."

T'Pol nodded. In spite of her training, she couldn't hold back the very faint discolouration that traced her cheeks. "Perhaps you should not enter the armoury just yet, Captain."

Archer looked back up at T'Pol in slight confusion. "Why not?" T'Pol didn't know how to put her answer in words. How were humans so easily able to communicate double meanings with their words- to be direct yet at the same time _indirect?_ To put it simply, it boggled her mind.

T'Pol exhaled slowly and told the Captain in a lower voice, "Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed are currently... occupied at the moment."

"What do you mean occupied?"

If T'Pol were human, she would have pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. But her training kept her as seemingly stoic as ever. She lowered her voice further as she answered, "They are engaged in a... rather _intimate_ activity."

Archer's expression didn't change. "And how, may I ask, do you know this?"

"In addition to our sensitive ability to smell, Vulcans also have rather strong hearing," T'Pol replied. _Unfortunately,_ she thought. "As I said before, you may not want to enter at the moment. Unless the idea of two senior officers engaging in-"

"Alright, that's enough, Sub-Commander," Archer interrupted, clearly struggling not to laugh. "Um, I'll just wait until Lieutenant Reed comes to the bridge... or something. Ah, see you later... I guess." With that, the amused yet rather flustered Captain turned and made his way down the corridor back to the turbolifts. Meanwhile, T'Pol gave the armoury doors a final glance before heading in the opposite direction. Her reports could wait another hour or two.

It was just another day on the Starship Enterprise, after all.

~Fin~


	6. Illogical

Illogical

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Plot Summary: T'Pol discusses with Phlox her thoughts on Lieutenant Reed's and Commander Tucker's relationship. Of course, Denobulans are just as confusing as humans.

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_**A/N: So, this was originally written for a completely different series of Malcolm Reed/Trip Tucker oneshots over on AO3, but... well, I felt like this fic deserved to be part of a generally better series of ficlets. As such, this oneshot was revised and has now officially become part of the Disaster Twins Shenanigans series, both on this site and AO3.**_

_**Also, I feel like I should say this now, because there really isn't a better time to say this... I'm beginning to think that my enthusiasm for the Reed/Tucker pairing is waning a little. I'm not saying I'm gonna stop shipping them- I'd be out of my mind if I did. But I've noticed that I'm not as into the ship now as I was when I first joined AO3. I'm still going to write stuff for this pairing, of course, but I'm bringing this up now because I'm also going to start writing **_**Enterprise **_**fics that have nothing to do with this pairing at all. (In fact, I'm working on one such fic right now.)**_

_**Reed/Tucker will always have a place in my heart, but I'd like to do other kinds of **_**Enterprise**_** fics too. Most of them will be Malcolm-centric, of course, because I just love that armoury officer so damn much! But again, some of them won't have anything to do with the Reed/Tucker pairing. I hope you guys understand, and please know that I'm never abandoning this ship. Okay? We good? In any case, please enjoy this oneshot, and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated. Flames on the other hand are not.**_

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T'Pol hadn't the faintest as to what to think when it came to human mating rituals. And when it came to the mates humans often chose? Forget about it- T'Pol was no better at understanding that than she was at understanding _water polo._

Vulcans choose mates who are the best match for them in all aspects- similar opinions, interests, etc. It was only _logical_. So T'Pol had no reasonable explanation as to why Lieutenant Reed and Commander Tucker were dating, let alone friends in the first place. The two, simply put, could not be any more different. Reed was often a bit shy and withdrawn in social settings. Tucker was confident and, when intoxicated, very loud-mouthed. And even when he's sober, he can be rather... again, loud. Reed was pessimistic, Tucker was optimistic. Malcolm had a preference for older literature and classic earth films, while Trip tended to be fond of... more _annoying_ pastimes.

Like playing his harmonica for half an hour straight at what would have been the crack of dawn had they been on Earth. T'Pol had often thought about moving to another deck, but then she would have to have a very uncomfortable discussion with Captain Archer about why she wanted to move in the first place. And no doubt Commander Tucker himself would quickly get dragged into the debate, and then said Southerner would never let T'Pol hear the end of it.

"You were watching them again," Phlox quietly observed while he and T'Pol sat in the mess, eating breakfast together. "From what I've heard, on Earth they would have called it 'stalking.'"

T'Pol lifted her gaze from her plomeek broth, clearly not amused in the slightest. She raised an arched eyebrow at the Denobulan and replied, "Humans are illogical in everything that they do- I find it astonishing that they have come as far as they have." She tilted her head towards Tucker and Reed. Tucker was laughing at something Travis had said to them, while Reed's face took on an absolutely mortified expression. "Vulcans choose our mates using logic and reason. We choose those who have similar goals and interests. Mates with whom we can work alongside with minimal conflict. Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed... they are _far_ from the ideal couple."

"Perhaps not by _your_ standards," Phlox pointed out, slowly chewing on a bite of waffle. "But by human standards, it's perfectly normal. Yes, humans do tend to choose those who have similar interests. But they also choose someone who can _still_ surprise them. Someone who they can continue to learn something new about every day. A relationship is pointless if it's all _predictable_. When it comes to humans, it's often the differences and uncertainty that drive the romance. Not just the similarities."

T'Pol's eyebrow quirked up another centimetre. "I, for one, do not expect this so-called 'relationship' to last long."

"You would be surprised about all the obstacles that love can overcome," Phlox told her. "I know I have."

"Love is an emotion, and therefore, it is illogical," T'Pol retorted.

Phlox merely shrugged and offered her a small smile. "Well, humans haven't exactly been known to be _logical_, now have they?" To this, T'Pol had no answer. That, or she did not feel like giving one. Which was perfectly fine with Phlox. "I don't suppose you'd like some of my waffle?" Phlox asked, lifting up the aforementioned food in his hand. "It really is quite good." The Vulcan ignored him, picking up her spoon and taking a sip of her broth.

Denobulans were just as puzzling as humans. Unfortunately.

~Fin.~


End file.
